


Together regardless

by smaragdbird



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bathing/Washing, Cousin Incest, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26413933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: Fingon takes care of Maedhros in the aftermath of his captivity
Relationships: Fingon | Findekáno/Maedhros | Maitimo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16
Collections: pine4pine 2020





	Together regardless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [2Nienna2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Nienna2/gifts).



“How do you feel?” Fingon asked, sitting down at the edge of the bathtub.

Maedhros stared at him, drinking in the sight of him here and real and unblemished. The early days of his recovery were a blur as was his rescue itself. If he hadn’t woken up multiple times since then he would’ve believed it had been a dream.

A part of him still “believed it was a dream.

“Maedhros?” A small frown marred Fingon’s face and Maedhros realised that he had been asked a question.

“Better”, he replied eventually, struggling to find the correct word. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in decades, hadn’t seen anyone in decades, not since Morgoth and Sauron had lost their interest in him. There had been months when he had screamed his throat raw if only to hear a voice and days where he had begged for them to return and torture him once more if only to – 

Fingon’s hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts and he flinched from the contact and missed it as soon as Fingon withdrew his hand, a look of sorrow on his face. “I’m sorry.”

Maedhros shook his head frantically and grabbed Fingon’s arm to place his hand back where it was.

“I thought I had hurt you.”

Maedhros shook his head again. He shivered when Fingon started to stroke his skin lightly with his fingers. 

“Is that alright?”

Maedhros nodded. He stared at Fingon again, pale skin and grey eyes like the bare mountains of Thangorodrim and his hair, black like the night. Fingon looked like the last time Maedhros had seen him, on the coast of Valinor as he had boarded the ships with his father and brothers. Compared to him Maedhros’ body was a ruin and despite assurances that he would heal, scars would remain. 

Something was different about Fingon though. 

“Your…” Maedhros had forgotten the word. He raised his hand and ran it along his scalp where his hair had been shorn off. 

“My hair?” Fingon guess. His hand was still on Maedhros’ shoulder, fingers caressing his skin and it was the least real thing Maedhros had ever experienced. “What about it?”

Maedhros grimaced, frustrated that even though he could picture it, he could not remember the words for what he wanted to say. There had been little use for words in captivity. Even when they had tortured him, Morgoth and Sauron had never asked him any questions. His torture had been a sport for them, nothing else.

“Band”, Maedhros managed to say, the closest word he could remember.

“You mean the ribbons?”

Maedhros nodded. 

“I…uhm…” Fingon ducked his head. “I lost them when we were crossing the ice. I’ve got spare ones but I didn’t want to bother anyone. Besides, none of my siblings can braid them as neatly as you.”

Maedhros tugged lightly at one of Fingon’s strands and attempted a smile. “You rescue me…for…braids.”

Thankfully Fingon understood him and returned his smile. “You’ve seen through my plan.”

Suddenly his smile wavered and tears filled his eyes. “I’m glad you to have you back, despite everything.”

Everything. His father. The Oath. The burning ships. 

How could Fingon even stand to look at him?

“I’m sorry”, Fingon said, wiping the tears from his eyes. 

Maedhros shook his head. “I’m…sorry…everything…you…leave…me...there…”

In a flurry faster than he could look, Fingon had gone from perching on the side of the tube to kneeling next to it so he could look Maedhros in the eyes, cupping the back of his head.

“Never, you hear, never. You wouldn’t have left me either.”

“I have.”

Fingon’s hand slid from his head and withdrew across his shoulder. Maedhros missed the touch as much as he had ever missed anything. How else could he know that all of this was real if Fingon did not touch him?

“It doesn’t matter.”

Maedhros stared at him as Fingon shook his head more to himself than anyone else, and took up a wash cloth.

“Here, let me help you.”

As Fingon rubbed the wash cloth gently across Maedhros’ skin, he could not do anything but stare at him. How could Fingon see past all of what had happened and risk his life to try and safe him? And succeed where none of his brothers had?

Fingon had started humming and Maedhros felt tears well up in his eyes. At first, he did not understand why but then he remembered that the song Fingon was humming was the same he had sung when he had rescued him from Thangorodrim. 

“Maedhros?” There was a panicked note in Fingon’s voice and the wash cloth hit the water as he cupped Maedhros’ face with both hands. “Maedhros I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to remind you…”

And then Fingon’s arms were around him, holding him safe and sound and Maedhros’ hand clutched Fingon’s shirt as he cried into his neck. Had he cried before? He could not remember. 

“Please…”, he managed to get out between sobs, “sing.”

Fingon’s voice carried him back to the cliffs of Thangorodrim and further away to the shores and the burning ships and across the sea to a battle field red with the blood of their own kin. Fingon had seen his hands bloody and the ships burning and the ruin of his body and yet he was still here, holding Maedhros as if he was deserving of such kindness.

Maedhros withdrew slightly from Fingon’s embrace and Fingon let him though his hands were resting firmly on Maedhros’ shoulders, as Maedhros revealed his final depravity and pressed his lips to Fingon’s. And Fingon accepted him as he had accepted all of Maedhros’ evil. It was enough to spill fresh tears over his cheeks as Fingon returned the kiss, gently, carefully, as if Maedhros was something fragile and irreplaceable to him.

“Maitimo.” Fingon rested their foreheads together and then he was crying and laughing at the same time and Maedhros uselessly tried to wipe away the tears with his hand. Eventually he gave up and instead took one of Fingon’s hands and pressed it over his heart. 

“We should not”, Fingon started, sitting up straight though he did not move either hand. Then he shook his head. “What does it matter? We came here to be free of their rules, of their laws.” 

His thumb caressed Maedhros’ cheek where one of Sauron’s torture implements had left a nasty scar. Maedhros leaned into the touch. 

“I love you”, Maedhros said, finally a word he remembered without forcing himself to find it inside his mind. He had found it the moment he had heard Fingon’s voice.

“And I love you”, Fingon replied, looking at him with such affection that Maedhros found it hard to bear. He was underserving of it but perhaps one day he could prove otherwise.


End file.
